


Enough

by Lynds



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, 5+1+porn, 5+1+porn+fluff and angst, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Emma Frost, BAMF Charles, Bad Parenting, Blood, Canonical Character Death, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles-centric, Child Neglect, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik Being Cocky, Erik is a Sweetheart, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Bondage, M/M, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Nosebleed, Panic Attacks, Poor Charles, Powerful Charles Xavier, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Smitten Erik, Telepathic Bondage, Telepathic Sex, because it's not massively relevant to the story, brief Charles/OMC, but in this story she is, but just from the nosebleeds, it's not even mentioned, ok fine, or it's implied, she just is OK, that's a great tag!, this is what happens when comments are so awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: Five times Charles is rejected by the most important people in his life, learning that he'll never be enough for people to look past his telepathy and accept him for everything he is.One time he's not.(Now contains a bunch more times Charles is accepted and loved wholeheartedly because once isn't nearly enough for Erik)





	1. Father

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is super angsty and a liiiittle bit dark in the first couple of chapters, but Erik will make it all worthwhile in the end, I promise! I've got it all written out, I'm going to be able to post once a week I think (gives me time to edit and format and stuff in between work!) so I hope you enjoy!

“Father, please will you play with me afterwards?” asked Charles from his seat on the floor.

“Perhaps, Charles, now hush, the board is about to arrive. Remember what I asked you to do.”

He nodded eagerly, delighted to be helping his father. He took a deep breath and focused, and allowed his mind to stretch. Like a butterfly’s wings, he thought. Other minds lit up in his perception, each one with a different flavour, like a voice, but different. Impossible to describe, though his father had asked him again and again, to _try_ , and because Charles loved his father, would do anything for him, he had tried. 

He tucked himself under the desk and closed his eyes. He listened to the thoughts of the people in the room as their real voices murmured, rose and fell in a background cadence. He frowned as he tried to remember every thought, every impression, everything his father might want to hear afterwards. 

The meeting seemed to last forever. Charles’ head ached, his temples throbbing, and he pressed his fingertips to the side of his head to ease the pressure, imagining that his power was controlled by a button on the side of his brain that he could press and hold to make it easier to work. The men droned on about funding and ethics committees. One man was distracted, thinking about his girlfriend, and what she had asked him to do with her. Charles didn’t understand any of it, but he remembered everything in case this was what Father wanted him to find out.

He was frowning by the time Father rose to let the men out into the hallway, his face scrunched up into a permanent wince. His head throbbed and his nose felt thick, like he had a cold. The muscles across his back ached, either with the uncomfortable position or with the effort of concentrating for so long.

“Charles? You can come out now.”

He sagged, his powers relaxing and feeling floppy, overworked. He crawled out on his hands and knees and beamed up at his father, squinting against the light that seemed to stab at his eyes.

“So?” his father asked. “What were they thinking of?”

Charles scrambled to his feet and closed his eyes to bring back the memories. “The man with the voice that smelled of roses, he was thinking about an article he read yesterday in the New York Times about the election, and how he hopes that the Democrats get into power because his wife is from Kaz… Kazak…”

“Kazakstan, yes, that’s not important. What was he thinking about the proposal?”

Charles’ eyes fluttered from side to side behind their eyelids as he rushed through all his other memories. “Ummm, he was thinking it was a good idea, and… he had already decided to put through his approval. And then after that he was thinking about the shopping centre on Roosevelt Avenue and how he—“

“Yes, yes, Charles, that doesn’t… what about Johnson?”

“Johnson?” Charles opened one eye to look at his father.

“The younger man, with the black hair.”

Charles blinked and frowned down at the carpet. “I don’t… I didn’t see their hair, none of them were thinking about their hair, I’m—“

Father sighed. “Never mind, just tell me what else they were thinking of.”

Charles gathered himself and nodded eagerly. “The man with the soft mind was thinking about a stain on his favourite shirt, he was cross with himself for buying a hot dog just before the meeting. There was a man with silvery streaks in his mind, and he was thinking of a lot of different things, he was planning to read some laws about ethics in child neurlo- neur- nerololig—“

“Neurological.”

“Neu-ro-logical testing,” Charles said slowly and carefully, his head bobbing with every syllable. “And he was also thinking about a movie he saw with a scary man with an axe and about his car because it’s having trouble with its brakes and he’s worried that his son’s not happy at school and also he was thinking how pretty the sun looked coming into the office through that window, may I see? I liked his mind, he thinks of lots of things all at the same time, it was interesting.”

“No, Charles, concentrate. I don’t care about sunbeams and schoolboys and… and what they’re having for dinner, I—“

“Oh, the lady is having meatloaf, she decided—“

“I just said I don’t _care_ about that! Charles…” Father sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Were any of them actually thinking about the proposal at all? I should just fire all of them and start again,” he muttered, more to himself than Charles.

“No! They were all thinking about it, Father, but not all the time, please don’t be cross? Umm, one man was thinking about his work, he was thinking he hadn’t done what he meant to do last night and he was worried you would find out, and then the man with the blue voice, he was…” Charles screwed up his face, trying to remember the words that had sounded so scientific, surely something to do with his father’s work. “He was thinking about fellatio—“

“Good Lord, Charles!” his father snapped, his face curled in disgust. “Wash your mouth out with soap, boy!”

“But…”

“No, that really is enough.” He sighed and stood up, leaning over his desk. “This just isn’t working.”

“Sorry, Father,” he said, his head drooping. He felt his eyes prickle, the stuffiness of his nose getting thicker. His head hurt even more now he knew he’d failed too.

“I’ll call your nanny to take you back,” he muttered, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Will you play with me tomorrow?” Charles asked hopefully, looking up.

“Not now, Charles, I’m busy with this proposal. You understand, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes. Of course. May I please come to work with you tomorrow again?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

He bit his lip to stop it wobbling. “I can do better,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I’ll try harder, I know I can be good enough.” He sniffed, and something made a tiny popping noise.

“Oh, for God’s sake! Look, move back, off the carpet.” His father shoved a handkerchief at him as red drops splattered onto his hand, and Charles blinked rapidly, confused. “Well press it onto your nose, boy! Honestly, children! The only thing they’re good for is making a bloody mess.” He turned, still muttering, and spoke into the phone, calling for Nanny Cortez. 

Charles held the handkerchief to his nose, breathed through his mouth, and tried not to cry.


	2. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Brian Xavier's funeral, Charles finds his mother and tries to connect with her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the darkest chapter in this fic, like some of the things Sharon Xavier says imply some reeeeally triggery things - including suicide (that's pretty much canon though?), self-loathing, eating disorders, alcoholism and child neglect... so please read with caution? I promise I will make up for all the mean stuff I do to Charles by the end of this fic!

Charles walked quietly through the echoing hallways into his mother’s drawing room. His black suit was starched stiff against his neck, his shoes shiny and pinching his toes. His head ached, and he relaxed his shields for the first time that day, letting the quiet sussurus of voices gather around his ears. He didn’t listen too hard, there were enough guests in the formal rooms below that the voices all spoke over each other and he would have had to focus to pick one out.

He could, now. He could seek out a memory, slip unnoticed through a mind and tease out the little secrets they hid behind voice and face, and hear everything. He was also old enough now that he knew what was important to find, and what was inconsequential. 

But it hadn’t been enough.

“Mother?” he said softly.

The glass decanter clinked loudly against her snifter, sloshing brandy onto the tablecloth. “Charles! You startled me.”

He heard her voice, speaking over her thoughts. The black, sluggish tendrils of her emotions, like cigar smoke, wafted over his mind, her grief, her anger, her despair.

Her fear.

_He’ll hear he’ll know he’ll know what I think he can take everything from me all my thoughts stop thinking stop thinking he’ll hear he’ll hear_

“Are you alright, Mother? The guests are being shown out by Patrick,” he said, walking closer. 

“I’m fine, darling,” she replied, standing tall in her black cocktail dress and turning to face the french doors out over the estate. “Go back to the party.” _he’ll know he’ll see too young can’t send him no maybe boarding school_

Charles blinked rapidly. “Um… the party… the wake’s over, Mother. Would you like me to bring you some food? You barely ate anything--”

The thoughts grew, screaming at him, and he felt the muscles in his face tense with the urge to flinch, to cover his head. _He saw you starving yourself filthy whore you useless bitch can’t do anything can’t even keep up appearances for your own child not enough not enough neither of you were enough to keep him selfish bastard that he is killed himself killed himself killed himself_

“Wh- what?” Charles’ heart dropped into his stomach, and he forgot that his mother’s mouth hadn’t moved. “Father didn’t… it was a car accident.”

Mother’s face creased into an elegant frown and she turned to look at him, perfectly calm as her thoughts rose to screaming pitch. “What are you talking about, darling?” _stupid boy stupid stupid both of you you’re both so stupid so you can lie to a telepath stupid stupid why didn’t he spot it before why didn’t he stop him dying why didn’t he make it better he can read minds why didn’t he see Brian take the gun why are you both so useless_

Charles gasped as a fractured image curled into his senses, his father laid out in the morgue, a bullet hole clean through his skull, one side to another, his mother’s bile rising, inseparable from his own, but she was right… he was a telepath, why hadn’t he stopped… why didn’t he notice? He was supposed to… he could have helped his father, he could have…

_He knows he knows he saw you stupid bitch you thought you thought you were supposed to keep it from him he’ll blame you now he’ll know you weren’t enough weren’t good enough incapable of love you can’t love anyone why would Brian love you hate you he’ll see he’ll see he’ll see everything he’ll know how useless you are how pathetic i don’t want him to see i want to be alone in my mind so scared so cold so scared_

Charles swallowed hard and took a step closer to his mother. She flinched, not with her body, but with her mind, her entire being, like a shoal of fish moving away from a shark. He forced a smile and held out a hand. He might not have saved his father but maybe he could help her. He approached like she was a dangerous, cornered wolf, an injured creature. “It’s OK, Mother,” he said softly. “Don’t be scared, please?”

She laughed, harsh and high. “Scared? What are you talking about, Charles?” _how dare you how dare you don’t need your help get out fuck off you needy little freak why did i have children why did i let him talk me into it why and now he’s gone the selfish bastard killed himself killed himself fuck i need a drink._ “Go on, darling. Go join the party. I’ll be along in a minute.”

Charles felt like he’d been punched in the gut, stepping back and folding his arms over his chest, trying to protect his heart from breaking. Mother turned away, and he pulled his shields up to stop the words from breaking through. He turned in a daze, and drifted downstairs. 

The guests had all left. He crept quietly into the narrow stairwell behind the kitchens and leaned against the stone, opening his shields just enough to hear the edge of thoughts from the servants, washing dishes, boxing up the remaining canapes, thinking of things that weren’t his failures.


	3. Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles thinks he knows what will make Raven happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apart from Charles' shitty parents, I wanted all the other people in this fic to have real, relatable reasons why they don't trust Charles - Raven sees Charles' actions very differently to how he intended, and Charles definitely has arrogance issues...

“Raven,” he called. “Raven! Where are you? I’ve got amazing news!” He touched his fingers to his temple. _Raven?_

 _In my room, Charles,_ she called back through their link. _What is it?_

He took the stairs two at a time, dodging his stepbrother by ducking into the library and through the attached study, then out and back into the corridors again. Finally he burst into Raven’s room and tumbled onto her bed, a bright grin stretching his cheeks. He saw his own face in Raven’s thoughts, skin flushed, eyes wide, hair tumbling all over his forehead. He brushed it back and got his fingers caught in the tangles.

Raven raised her eyebrow over one amber eye. “What is it?” she asked with a smirk. “Did David Attenborough reply to your email?”

He made a face at her. “I sent him a _letter_ , Raven, and yes, you know he did.”

“Yeah, because you’ve got it framed, you nerd.”

“I was ten! He was very supportive of my dreams, and I appreciate a well-known public figure encouraging the youth in pursuit of scientific advancement.”

“Whatever. Nerd.”

He shoved her, and she kicked him with about a tenth of her strength, nearly breaking a rib. “Bloody hell, Raven!”

“Shut up, you big baby. What did you come tumbling in here for, anyway?”

His eyes lit up again and he sat cross legged across from her. “You know you’ve been wanting to come to high school, right? And you can’t, because Sharon and Kurt don’t know you live here?”

“Yeah… wait…” _I never told you that. How did you know I wanted to--_

He rolled his eyes and tapped his temple. Raven fell silent, a slight frown forming. Charles almost bounced up and down on the bed in his excitement. “I’ve worked out a way to make it happen! I’ve been working on neuroscience a lot, there are some incredible resources, did you know you can download full university textbooks for free? And I was doing some experiments, just… just minor ones, harmless, you know? Where I try to influence people’s decisions - just little things at first, like I can reliably make my teacher decide not to set a test, or I can make the driver turn left at the junction into town and take me to the market instead of the mall. Which is all very useful but...!” 

He clenched his fists, tried to tone his smile down for the big reveal. Raven was going to be so happy! She’d be able to go to school, make friends, he knew she was so lonely! “I’ve gone further. I’ve learned how to modify memories, too… Raven, you’re now my actual real _sister_. Kurt and Mother, they think you’re my biological sister, you don’t have to walk around invisible any more. They’ll take you to school, and I’ll make the school administrators think you’re enrolled there officially - you’ll be able to come to school with me and sit next to me in class and I’ll help you with your homework, I’ve already been teaching you everything we know anyway and… I’m so excited!”

He gave in to the impulse to jump up and down on the bed in glee, tucking his fists under his chin, waiting to see the smile break over her face. She’d have to go in shapeshifted, and that would be tiring at first, but she was so talented - she had this favourite face, a pretty blonde girl, everyone was going to absolutely love her, and he’d be able to sit with her at lunch and talk to her all the time and she’d be able to send thought-messages to him when they were bored in class and… and she wasn’t smiling.

“You changed people’s memories? You can make them decide to do things?”

He nodded. Her thoughts were closed off, but vibrating at the edges, a red tint seeping in, and he frowned. What had he done wrong? “Oh, but I wouldn’t make anyone do anything bad. You know that, right? I would never do anything cruel to anyone.”

She stood up, her fists clenched at her side. “How many people did you screw around with, Charles?”

He blinked rapidly, his smile fading. “I don’t… just a few?”

“How many?”

“I don’t know, Raven, maybe ten? All little things, apart from Kurt and Sharon. Oh, and Cain.”

“And you’ll have to change Mrs White’s memories too, won’t you, so she’ll set a place for me at dinner now, right? And Andrew’s, so he doesn’t get confused when two of us get into the car. Oh, and of course, the school administrator’s, and all your teachers, and your classmates, and anyone who’s ever asked if you have a sister.” Her voice rose, louder and angrier, and he reached out for her with his mind, wanting to know what he’d done wrong, how to fix it. _What if he does it to me? What if he makes me do something I don’t want? How can I trust him?_

“Raven, of course you can trust me! I would never make you--”

She recoiled like he’d struck her. “Did you just… get the hell out of my head, Charles! Stop it!”

“But I don’t…”

“You just made these decisions, and you messed around with people’s heads, with their _memories_ … what if you’d got something wrong? You could have turned them into vegetables!”

“I wouldn’t get it wrong, it’s not how it works--”

“Oh my God, how arrogant can you be? You just _know_ you wouldn’t get it wrong? Why, because you’re Charles Xavier, boy genius, off to Harvard in a couple of years, you know everything. You know what’s best for everyone, you wouldn’t do anything wrong, would you? Huh? Because you’re so perfect? Well I’ve got news for you, Charles, what you do is wrong! Reading everyone’s mind, taking out their secrets and their wishes and just making them happen because you _can_ , how dare you? Normal people don’t do that!”

“Normal people aren’t blue,” he said back, low and hurt and angry.

Her scales fluttered, and her mind turned sharp, like melting, like pain, like fury. “Fuck you.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Raven, I didn’t--”

“Get out of my head,” she hissed. “Get out and stay out, Charles, I want you to _swear_ to me that you’ll never look in my mind again. Can you do that? Are you even capable of _staying out_ of other people’s business?”

His breath caught in his throat. To stay out of her mind… the only place he’d felt welcome, the only person who knew what he could do and accepted it… he thought he’d been accepted, thought she’d wanted it, but had he been blind? Had he seen only what he wanted to see, someone sharing their thoughts with him, inviting him in, when really he’d never been enough to deserve his place in Raven’s mind.

“Swear to me,” she said, advancing on him, standing over him, her yellow eyes hard, digging into his heart. “Swear you’ll never do that to me.”

“I’ll never change your memories,” he said softly, holding her gaze, begging her with everything he had to believe him. “I’ll never make you do anything.”

“And you’ll stay out of my mind. I don’t want you getting any more ideas like that.”

He closed his eyes and reached out, wishing she would change her mind, wanting to sink into her thoughts and watch the changing colours of her emotions, fluttering, switching, fascinating behind his eyelids. But all he could feel was sharp and hurt and… and afraid. Raven was terrified of him.

He realised he could make her accept him. He could take this memory away, make it so she’d never rejected him, and the thought scared him, too. He nodded, held his muscles under control so that his lip didn’t wobble like a child pushed away. “I swear,” he whispered, and built up an iron band around her mind, a cold, hard barrier that would stop him from reaching out for her even in his dreams.

She stared at him one moment more, then nodded, once, sharp, and left the room. Charles sat there until long after the sun had set, wishing that her things, that her smell, could be a substitute for her bright and changing mind.

Raven started school two grades below him. He sat in his classroom alone, and went to study in Oxford early.


	4. Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and his boyfriend Daniel have been going out for a while now... he's baseline, but Charles thinks he can trust him with his secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan's just an OC, he's not supposed to be any X men character

Charles heard Daniel’s key turn in the lock and hurried to light the candles on the table. “Hey,” he said, as his boyfriend walked through the door.

“Hi,” Dan said with a smile, moving forward to kiss him. “This looks amazing, what’s the occasion?”

Charles blinked rapidly. “Can’t I just want to treat you?”

Dan smirked. “You treated me this morning.” He kisses him on the forehead, and the slight height difference made Charles feel cared for, protected. “Thank you, baby. I’ll just go get changed.”

They were on the dessert course by the time Charles screwed up the courage. It was time, he knew it, he just needed to be a bit braver. Dan was the one, and he needed him to know. “I do actually have… something to tell you.”

Dan raised an eyebrow, a flush of anticipation colouring the soft edges of his mind. “I knew it! What is it? Did you get your supervisor to agree to the project?”

“Well, yes, but…” he stopped to smile, glowing at appreciation for Daniel knowing him so well, caring about what was important to him. “It’s actually about me. I… I have a secret, and I wanted to tell you because… because I think we work really well together.”

Dan took his hand and smiled fondly. “We do.”

“And- well, I don’t want to keep secrets from you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, actually, I just… it’s been a secret from everyone for so long, I just—“

“Baby, it’s ok. Just tell me.” Daniel moved forwards in his chair, and Charles winced at the edge of anxiety, worry for Charles that threaded through his thoughts. Daniel was an artist, and his mind seemed to be made up of sights and colours and textures more than words. It was beautiful. But he was worrying him now, and that just wasn’t acceptable.

“I’m a mutant,” he said, taking a deep breath. “A telepath.”

The anxiety didn’t disappear, silvery threads lacing through his thoughts, cloudy and confused. “A telepath?” Dan frowned, looking down. “What does that mean? I mean, what can you do?”

“Well… I can read minds. I don’t just… I don’t all the time, I mostly get the impression, surface thoughts off people. Like reading their body language really well. I _can_ read someone’s thoughts in more detail if I push, but that’s rude, so I don’t.”

He blinked. “Oh… kay. Anything else?”

Charles bit his lip. “I can… to a certain extent I can control minds. As well.”

“You can make people do things? Make them think things?”

“Well, yes, I suppose… yes, I can. But I don’t, I swear, it’s completely unethical, I would never consider…” he trailed off, remembering how he’d made his mother and stepfather believe Raven was his sister, how he’d sent that man home from a bar the other night because he’d _heard_ what he was intending with the girl a few seats over... “I don’t,” he said, weakly.

Daniel bit his lip and looked up at Charles. “Wow. This is… that’s pretty huge.” He laughed, and Charles told himself it was a good thing even as his mind heard the undercurrents of worry and fear increasing, his mind almost entirely silver.

“Would you like to see how your mind feels to me?” he asked, leaning forward and taking his hands. “It’s so beautiful, you’re always surrounded by colour and texture and light… being near you is like being in one of your paintings, it’s… I can show you, if you like?” He held his hand up to his temple, a question in his eyes.

Daniel hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, OK.”

Charles smiled, a thrill running through himself. If he could just show him how beautiful it was to feel other minds, if he could make Daniel see how beautiful _his_ mind was… in a secret corner of himself he hoped he would produce something inspired by the feel of his own mind as Charles saw it - something awesome and delicate. He leaned forwards, brushing his fingertips to Dan’s temple, and gently pushed the sensation towards him.

Dan gasped and started backwards, so Charles lost contact with touch. He hadn’t really needed it for years, so the connection remained, and Dan clutched at his head. “What the… what the hell? What the hell? Oh my God, what… get out, Charles, get out!”

Charles pulled back, blinking in surprise. “Didn’t you like it?”

Dan looked ill, and Charles felt his heart sink. Was it really so repulsive, what he could do? Dan shook his head, like he was trying to work the feelings loose, brush them off. “God, that’s surreal!”

Charles found himself blinking rapidly, an old nervous tell he’d never been able to get rid of. “I’m sorry… I thought you’d like it… I find it so beautiful, I just… I think it’s the perfect mind for an artist to have, and I thought you’d like to see it.”

Daniel took a deep breath and stepped closer, kissing Charles hesitantly. “It’s just… different, I guess. Look, maybe we can try again. Maybe I just need to get used to it.”

Charles nodded and kissed him, grateful and happy. He told himself that once Daniel got used to the idea, that he’d love to share Charles’ telepathy, he’d marvel at the colours and the differences in minds the way Charles did. He could make Daniel temporarily synaesthetic, he’d spoken with such wonder about synaesthetic artists. And that was without trying telepathic sex, something Charles had always secretly wanted to do.

But Daniel never got used to it. Charles could tell, the shrinking repulsion of his mind, how his beautiful colours and textures became more and more packed away around Charles. And one day Daniel said he was sorry, but there was just too much of a power imbalance, and kissed Charles on the cheek, goodbye. Charles watched him leave, and packed away his wishes and fantasies, because it was completely understandable. Who would want to be with someone so freakish, so dangerous, who couldn’t be trusted not to leave your mind alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to upload the next couple of chapters a bit closer together because chapter 5 is really short... and because someone might have inspired me to write another chapter of fluff to tag on the end as well lol!


	5. Student

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I know this one's only a few hundred words, but it's meant to show how Charles is becoming accustomed to rejection (gulp! Sorry Charles!) But on the other hand because it's so short I'm uploading it early, and Erik will make his first appearance on Monday!! I've also written that extra chapter which was MEANT to be pure fluff and ended up being really angsty and hurt/comfort-y! But at least there is COMFORT to make up for these first five chapters!!

“I assure you, Angel, if you learn to control your mutation before you start using it for work, you’ll have a much better chance of being able to use it long term. If you leave now, you’re likely to over-extend your wings and do permanent damage.”

“That’s all very well for you to say, doc, but you’ve never had to worry about money, have you?”

Charles rubbed his temples. “You don’t have to worry about money when you’re here, either. The school provides all your living essentials.”

Angel snorted. “Yeah, essentials, but nothing else. I know what I’m capable of, and the Hellfire Club’s offered me a great position.”

Please, Angel, I really do believe it’s worth putting in the time in the long run. Don’t be impatient, not with this.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” she said, shifting the bag on her back. “I’m leaving now, OK? See you around.”

Charles watched her leave. He felt the outline of her mind as she walked through the school, quiet now that the others were closed off in lessons, and drifted through the gates to the taxi outside. Then he shook it off and went to the lab.

“She’s gone, huh?”

Charles nodded and sat at his bench. “I wish I could make them see that they aren’t alone any more, even if they have been all their lives… we’re here for them now.”

“Sometimes that’s just not enough, Charles,” Hank said with a shrug. “Or it’s too little, too late.”

He thought he’d have learned by now, but every time the sting hit deep. Charles swallowed it down. It was just life. He would never be enough. He smiled over at Hank. “Where were we?”

When they decided to set up the training school, Charles had hoped that he could give young people a home in the place he’d found so empty of love himself. Turn the old pile around and give it the warmth he’d lacked. He knew he had very little to give, but maybe one day he’d find the person for whom he was _enough_. Someone who needed exactly what he could give, and might stay around.

It was a pipe dream, he knew. But he’d always been naive and idealistic. He smiled to himself, and pressed down on the hole behind his ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments, I'm so rubbish at replying because I read all the lovely lovely things you guys say and have to go sit in a darkened room to calm down because YOU GUYS ARE TOO KIND and lovely and I'm keeping all of you ;_;


	6. +1 - Erik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Erik Lehnsherr...

Charles regretted being out in New York on the day of the protest. The streets were crowded with mutants and allies, and behind them trailed the counter protesters, the ugly hum of anger thick in the air, pressing on his temples and making him flinch at shadows.

He hurried down the side street. His errand was over, another student booked to visit the school in a week. Luckily this one had supportive parents who wanted to look around as well, make sure their child was going to be well cared for while they learned to hone and control their teleporting powers.

He heard the minds before he saw the men, before he heard their feet pounding on the tarmac. _Run quick round here Trask’s waiting we’ll get him fuck he’s fast run!_

Charles flinched back as two men raced past. Even with the loud projecting, they were both surrounded by a haze of fear, but unlike someone just running _away_ , they were also saturated with anticipation… even excitement.

Seconds behind them, legs and arms pumping, came a tall, furious looking man, projecting determination, and righteous anger, and Charles knew with a horrifying certainty that he was running into a trap. “Wait!” he yelled, and tore after him.

He could hear the voices ahead of him, the first men had doubled back and were standing with a trio of other minds, and in a panic, Charles reached out into the pursuer’s mind and cried out again, _wait!_

The man stopped and spun on his heel, glaring at Charles. “Was that you?”

Charles caught up to him, breathing hard, and held his finger to his lip. But it was too late - the other minds were coming closer, anticipation a tingling zing to the edges of their minds. “Please, trust me?” he asked the tall man.

The man curled his lip up, but before he could retort, the ambush arrived. 

Charles gripped the man’s elbow and concentrated hard, pressing his fingers to his temple in his old childhood crutch. He reached into their minds, a part of him already bemoaning the loss of his morals, yet again, and simply cut himself and the man out of their awareness.

“Well, where the hell is he?”

“He was right here!”

“What are you--”

 _Shhh!_ Charles insisted in the man’s mind, and oh _God_ he had such a beautiful mind, it was all he could do not to reach in, brush against all the sweeping lines, the architecture of it. _It’s harder if you talk._

“You said he was following you!” snapped one of the ambushers, a bulky guy in combat trousers and black boots.

“He was,” insisted the second runner who’d passed Charles. He was almost pleading with his boss.

“Well he sure as hell ain’t here now,” yelled Combats. “You fucked up, that’s what happened. You were supposed to piss Lehnsherr off enough that he’d _have_ to follow you, and now what? What are we going to do with the transport we’ve hired?”

The man at Charles' side, Lehnsherr, tensed at this, radiating a fury so powerful that Charles was amazed the attackers couldn’t feel it.

“I swear, boss, he was following us,” whined runner number two. “He should be here.”

“He was, definitely,” nodded runner number one, nodding. “We hit that blonde bitch with the dart, and we made _sure_ he saw us - he was definitely coming after us.”

Combats threw his hands up. “Well he’s not here now, is he?”

The two runners looked at each other and shuffled their feet like naughty schoolboys as their boss ranted and raved. Charles was considering pushing them to leave, making the decision for them, when Lehnsherr reached out his hand. The metal of the fire escapes whipped out like cobras, curling tendrils around the three men’s arms and hauling them up, trapping them against the wall. Lehnsherr grinned, all his teeth showing in vicious glee, and stepped forwards out of Charles’ grip, lifting a huge rubbish skip in front of the screaming, writhing captives.

For a moment, Charles was staggered by the overwhelming beauty of his mind as he used his powers, aurorae dancing around his senses, reaching out and limning all the metal in the immediate vicinity with a twisting light. He lost his grip on the men’s minds as he stared and soaked up the incredible presence.

Then he yelled and rushed forwards, standing between the men and Lehnsherr. “Don’t! You’ll kill them!”

“Yes, that’s rather the point,” he said dryly.

“You can’t just kill them!”

“It’s better than what they’d have done to me, isn’t it? I bet they’d take you, as well, a powerful telepath like yourself. Where did you have in mind, boys? Some lab somewhere in the wilderness? Pump me full of drugs, see how far you can push me, how much it’ll take to tear away my powers, how much it’ll take to make them explode uncontrolably? Why do you think I should let you live?”

His mind was sharp-edged with fury and grief, but Charles held up both his hands and took a step closer. “Because you have it in you to be the better man.”

“We already are the better men,” he snarled. “These… these _baselines_ are the Neanderthals of the present, they know they’re in the presence of the next stage of human evolution, and they’re fighting their own extinction.”

Charles rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Oh, and you were doing so well! Don’t tell me you’re still subscribing to that utterly _Victorian_ notion that evolution is a linear process with some sort of optimum species in mind. And here I was thinking you were intelligent - your mind is so _beautiful_ , how can you still believe that _Homo neanderthalis_ was in any way inferior to _Homo sapiens?_ You do know that nearly all people of European origin have approximately two percent Neanderthal DNA, and that Neandertals and _Homo sapiens_ populations lived side by side for centuries, interbreeding, until finally genetic drift and climate change and the end of the megafauna spelled the end of them, don’t you?”

The alleyway was silent. Water dripped in the corner. 

Charles cleared his throat. “Anyway. What I’m saying is that… umm… just don’t use biology as your excuse for bigotry and supremacist leanings.” 

Lehnsherr bit his lip, creases forming at the corners of his eyes. “Two percent, hmm?”

“Yes,” said Charles primly, crossing his arms.

“Well, that’s very interesting information, Mr…?”

“Xavier. Charles Xavier. Now, are you going to put that skip down?”

“Skip?”

“Garbage… thing. Whatever you Americans call it.”

“I’m not American, I’m German.”

“Well, I don’t know what you call it in Germany- look, are you going to put it down or are you going to discuss linguistics?”

“I’d much rather discuss biology,” he said, lowering the skip to the ground and completely ignoring the squirming, yelling humans still pinned to the wall behind them. “Say, over coffee?”

Charles blinked rapidly. “I… I beg your pardon?”

Lehnsherr held up his hands. “Sorry, I mean… platonic coffee would be good too. But if my gaydar is correct...”

“You want to take me out for coffee?”

“If you want to accompany me, yes.”

Charles opened and shut his mouth, completely lost for words. He bit his lip, and Lehnsherr flicked his eyes down, and back up to his eyes. “Ummm… your, uh… your gaydar’s correct,” he said at last, weakly.

Lehnsherr grinned, shark-like, and his mind sparked at the edges, like flint on steel. “Excellent. Oh- I do still want to hear more about Neanderthals, of course. I’m not just asking you out because you’ve got glorious blue eyes and the most fantastic mutation I’ve ever seen.”

Charles’ butterflies didn’t know what to do with themselves. He felt himself breaking into a wide, utterly silly grin, and goodness knows what he would have said if the captives hadn’t spoken up just then.

“Oh, Christ, they’re faggots as well.”

Charles turned and narrowed his eyes at them as Lehnsherr lifted the skip again, making them shriek and howl in fear. He held out his hand to Lehnsherr. “Wait, I’ve got a better idea. One that won’t send you to prison.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey, Moira? Yes, we’ve got three men here who just attacked my friend and I. If you come down to…” he looked around. “Cortlandt alley, I think? I’ll check and text you my location anyway. We’ve got a lovely little trio, armed with tranquilisers and suppressants, and a van somewhere they’ve been planning to use to transport their victims. Oh, perfect. Thank you, Moira, I owe you one.” He glanced up at Lehnsherr. “I think my friend and I will clear out before you get here. It’s still a bit hairy for mutants in this area, if you know what I mean. Yes, thank you. You know how to get hold of me.”

He hung up and smiled sweetly at the men, straining at their bonds. “You’ll never get away with this, mutie scum,” snarled one of them.

Charles pursed his lips and tutted. “Oh really. This isn’t Scooby-doo. And I have very good links with the local police. And quite exceptional lawyers, as well.” He turned to Lehnsherr. “Shall we?”

Lehnsherr raised an eyebrow, mischief twinkling. “I still say we should kill them.”

Charles shrugged. “Well, as I said, my lawyers really are very good, so…”

He laughed, throwing his head back, and Charles felt shockwaves of desire rushing through him. He pushed them back, trying to stay pragmatic. He would enjoy this for as long as he got, but at some point this gorgeous man, this beautiful mind, would remember what he was, what he could do, and he’d move on. But first, maybe there would be coffee…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I do kind of just want Erik to launch himself into comforting Charles and teaching him that he's incredible and wonderful BUT I also want to be a _tiny_ bit realistic? In that I want it to be hard for Charles to accept. So that's why this fic has grown wayyyy out of proportion to the original 5+1 idea! There are now 3 chapters of Erik and Charles, and I think there might end up being a fourth... I hope nobody minds this ridiculous angst train!


	7. More than Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles gets the evidence he's never dreamed he'd get, that he might actually be enough - or more than enough - for someone as he is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that earns the E rating... yay! I hope!

Erik bought him coffee. He argued with him, he stated evidence for his views, and he refuted Charles’. It was infuriating and intoxicating, and Charles found himself sinking into the conversation unreservedly, and wanting more. When Erik left, taking Charles’ phone number with him and leaving behind a chaste kiss on the cheek and a tingling sensation all down Charles’ back, he had to take a deep breath and push the want down hard. That would probably be the last time he ever heard from Erik.

But less than a day had passed when Erik was texting him to ask for a second date, a trip to an open lecture on the effect of radiation on the X gene. He and Charles got into a debate with the visiting professor that the man could barely keep up with, and soon members of the audience were directing questions to the two of them, leaving the mutantphobic researcher fuming at the front of the room.

Charles had taught himself to be good at compartmentalising - he had to, as a telepath. It wasn’t just his own thoughts and emotions he needed to catalogue and put aside for later, but everyone else’s, after all. But the pull he felt towards Erik and his beautiful mind, his passion, his sarcasm and teasing… Charles was finding it harder to keep it contained. He orbited Erik like a planet, already.

Erik introduced him to his friends, brought him into the Brotherhood of Mutants, where they argued fiercely about ethics and politics, usually to the point where the others started to glaze over or wandered off. Erik’s second in command, Emma, was also a telepath, the only other Charles had ever met, and he was fascinated by the way she wielded her power as an extra limb, and at how much Erik accepted her into his mind. He forced down his jealousy, convinced it to turn into hope, that maybe one day Erik would accept him in like that as well. He turned away from Emma, from her sharp gaze and well-hidden sympathy.

He brought Erik to the school and Erik put him into contact with potential students and teachers, and they hashed out new policies and programmes teaching outside the school grounds, bringing mutant education to people who couldn’t afford to come to upstate New York, and the more he got to know him, his passion, his determination to help their people, the more he sank, deep, into wanting more, into wanting everything.

It had been a long time since he’d truly been hurt. He’d got used to accepting that he’d never be enough for people to get past the turn-off of his telepathy, but for the first time in years he found himself wishing, hopelessly, that he could just… get rid of it. Be a bit more normal, be a bit less, maybe have a simple mutation like telekinesis, or power over an element of some sort. Maybe then he’d be good enough for Erik.

***

“Do you have anywhere to be tomorrow morning?” Erik asked softly into his ear one Saturday night.

Charles shivered, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt a sweep of magenta down his spine. “No… Hank’s on call this Sunday.”

Erik linked their fingers, his skin sliding slowly against Charles’ palm. “Then… would you come back to mine?”

Charles pressed forwards and kissed him, losing himself in the feel of Erik’s mind, his power swirling with the magnetic fields of the earth. It was like stars bursting behind his eyelids as he licked into his mouth.

Erik gasped and staggered back, gripping his biceps to hold him upright. “What was that?”

Cold horror flooded Charles’ spine. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry, Erik, was I… my telepathy, I didn’t realise I was being so intrusive, please… please forgive me?”

“Your telepathy? That was you, in my mind?”

He wanted to _cry_ , honestly, why couldn’t he have better control? “I’m so sorry, my friend… I’ll just…” he stepped back. It had been wonderful while it lasted, he thought.

Erik tightened his grip. “Do it again.”

“What?”

He pulled him closer, nudging at his ear with his nose, kissing down his jaw so Charles felt like his spine was made of liquid. “What else can you do with it?”

“I don’t… I don’t really know…”

He laughed, a deep chuckle that pooled in Charles’ sacrum. “Oh come now, Charles, don’t be coy. Emma thinks I’m an utter pervert, but I’ve been dying to know how it feels to have telepathic sex, ever since I met you.”

Charles gulped. “You and me both.”

Erik pulled back to look at him, a frown forming between his brows. “You mean…”

“I’ve… never used my telepathy. For sex, I mean.”

Erik laughed. “But why? Excuse me for being puerile, but that was one of the first things I thought of when I realised you were a telepath. Well, after we’d dealt with those three idiots.”

“You’ve thought about it?” He was breathless, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t trust… “You’ve… really?”

Erik brushed his fingertips through his hair, stroking a curl behind his ear. “I’ve thought of all of you. Your lips…” he stroked the top curve of his mouth, and Charles’ lips fell open as he stroked downwards, catching on his lower lip. “Your hair…” he tugged the curls, and Charles’ eyes fell shut as arousal spiked through his gut. “That _arse, mein Gott,_ Charles, your arse. Fuck. And your mind. I want to feel what you’re feeling when I open you up and slide inside you, I want to see how those brilliant blue eyes roll back when I share my orgasm with you.”

Charles was almost hyperventilating, gripping on to Erik’s waist to hold himself up. “Oh God.”

“Tell me I can take you home. I want you in my mind while I’m in your body, I want to feel it all with you.”

Charles surged up and kissed him hard, burrowing his fingers into Erik’s curls, almost devouring him. “Are you sure?”

“Fuck, yes, I want you, all of you, yes.”

He had never been so frantic, hadn’t used his powers with such selfishness and abandon since he was a teenager, calling a taxi, turning the cabbie’s mind away as Erik unbuttoned his slacks, palming him through his briefs, sliding his long fingers down behind his balls as he groaned into his open mouth. The driver waved them off, unconcerned and unnoticing as they threw cash at him and stumbled out, half-clothed, grasping at each other and tripping up the stairs to Erik’s apartment.

“Come on, Charles,” Erik said, biting at his neck. “What are you waiting for?”

Charles moaned, desperate and terrified that this would stop, that Erik would recoil at the first touch of his mind and throw him out. He brushed his fingers against Erik’s temple, caressing, drawing it out so he could have as long as possible, as he sent careful tendrils into his mind. His eyes fluttered shut. He felt warm, almost hot, and gleefully bright. His thoughts were organised carefully, ruthlessly, but for all that he was primarily intelligent and focused on his goals, he saw such joyous beauty in the world, and now Charles saw it too.

Erik’s hand came up to cover his own. “Deeper,” he said breathlessly. “I can hardly feel you, I want to… I want to see what my mind looks like to you, let me see what you can do.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, almost a whisper, almost a whimper. “Erik, you have to… please, tell me you’re sure, I can’t bear it if you hate me because--”

“Hate you?” he laughed incredulously, jerking back. “Why on earth would I hate you? I’m asking you to do this… oh, _scheisse,_ is this OK with you? I’m not pushing you into it, or anything, am I?”

“No! No, I’ve wanted to…” Charles swallowed hard. “I’ve just… I’ve wanted to show someone for so long. What I can do, what the world looks like to me… I know people find it strange, or terrifying, or--”

“Then they’re cowards. Or idiots.” Erik held Charles’ hands in both of his. “Whoever they are, whoever’s told you your power is something to be hidden, something to be ashamed of… well, I would hunt them down and show them how wrong they are, but I’m too selfish for that - then they might want you back, and they’re too late. Fucking idiots.” He slipped his arms around Charles’ waist and tugged him closer, pressing him tight up against his body. 

Charles dropped his head onto Erik’s collarbone, torn between tearing his clothes off in lust, and sobbing in some sort of confused relief. 

Erik kissed around the curve of his ear, his breathing hot in Charles’ hearing, and guided him backwards. “Let me show you what my powers can do.” He grinned and bit his earlobe, making Charles gasp and arch into him. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”

He stepped back suddenly, and Charles went to sway towards him, but his arms were pulled backwards. He blinked and looked to each side. There was nothing there, just his hands held in the air at shoulder height, being tugged gently.

“Is this OK?” asked Erik, head to one side, looking at him seriously. 

“How are you…?”

Erik tapped the side of his head. “Come and find out.”

Charles bit his lip and sank into his mind. It felt like Erik was opening up his every thought, inviting him in, and Charles was almost frantic with temptation. _Come on, gorgeous, let me feel you,_ called Erik, his thoughts glowing with delight and anticipation. Charles reached out to brush against his thoughts, tentative, every moment expecting to be hurled out.

Erik grinned and stepped closer, brushing the backs of his fingers over Charles’ cheek, down his throat. “Ah, there you are,” he said. “Now, I wonder if you can feel this?”

He didn’t move, didn’t even flex his fingers, but Charles watched his mind light up, sparks firing along neurones he’d never seen before, and watched through Erik’s eyes as the metal in Charles’ watch and rings responded to his call, green aurorae glinting and pulling. He staggered backwards, drawn by his arms, until he hit the bed, and scrambled back onto the sheets.

Erik stalked over to him and leaned over. “What does it look like to you?” he asked, his lips brushing over his cheek as Charles arched up, needy for him.

“It’s like… like the northern lights,” he said breathlessly. “It’s so beautiful, your mind, your powers, God, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, fuck…”

Erik grinned again, fierce and joyful. He tugged Charles’ hands higher so they were crossed over his head as he started tugging at the buttons of his shirt one-handed. Charles sucked in a breath, pushing his chest closer to the insufficient brush of knuckles. “Come on, Charles,” he said, spreading his shirt open and just fluttering his fingers over one peaked nipple. “What else can you do? Show me.”

Charles hesitated. He should stop there, pretend that was all there was to him, seeing thoughts, experiencing the world through another’s eyes, but something greedy in him wanted more, wanted complete acceptance. He bit his lip and Erik leaned down to prise it from his teeth with a kiss. 

He would break if Erik turned away from him, like all the others. If he was afraid of him. Part of him, desperate for what he’d already been gifted, wanted him to lie, keep that final part a secret. But if it ever came to light… the longer he waited, the more he had of this _heaven,_ the worse he would shatter when it ended. 

Better to show him now, send him running before he had all of Charles’ heart. He would still break, but maybe, maybe if it happened now, he wouldn’t crumble.

He set his jaw and looked right into Erik’s eyes. Reached into his mind, and took hold of some of his muscles, leaving his awareness, his face, his voice, untouched. He watched Erik’s eyes widen as he realised he was no longer in complete control of himself.

He made Erik sit back on his haunches. The hand that had unbuttoned Charles’ shirt lifted to Erik’s turtleneck and he stripped it off. Charles stared at his bared chest, slim waist and hard muscles, and waited for the rejection.

Erik laughed, and Charles felt amazement sparkle along his thoughts. “You’re controlling me,” he said. “Holy shit, just how powerful are you?”

Charles looked away. “I could take all of you. Everything you are. I could change… everything.”

There was a flutter of fear along Erik’s thoughts, and Charles pulled back, gently extracting himself. He’d never expected any less. It was better this way, better to be rebuffed early.

Erik grabbed his arm as he pushed himself up, ready to leave. “Wait, where are you…”

“I’m sorry,” Charles said around the lump in his throat. “I understand, I just… I thought you should know. It’s better that way, rather than… well, I didn’t want to keep it a secret, and you asked.”

“Yes,” he said, his hand moving to press in the centre of Charles’ chest. “You’re terrifying, what you can do… I’ve never met anyone so powerful.” He stroked down Charles’ sternum. “Do you know, I can feel the iron in your blood? I can… I could pull it out through your skin, if I wanted to. I can sense the magnetic fields given off by your nervous system when it fires, and I imagine if I disrupted that, it could cause a catastrophic fit. Does that scare you? Would you like to leave?”

Charles shook his head, felt his heartbeat rise. Erik brushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool at his wrists. He leaned forwards and pressed a kiss at his collarbone, followed by a stinging nip that made Charles’ inhale sharply. “You’re intoxicating, do you know that?” Erik asked. “I thought, when I first met you, that you were a soft, harmless creature - very beautiful, but extremely pacifist, and dare I say, a little bit spoilt. But you’re nothing like you appear. You know you could kill, you could destroy lives.” He kissed up his neck, and Charles let his head fall back. “But you choose not to.”

He leaned forwards, and Charles lay back under his gentle pressure, his skin heated, calling out for his touch. “My hard limits are memories,” Erik murmured, straddling his hips. “Don’t change any, don’t remove any. I want to be conscious of everything I do, I want to be… present.” He grinned. “I don’t want to miss out on anything. So what you did now, taking control of my arms, that’s fine. But I need to be able to tell you to stop, OK?”

Charles nodded, his head spinning, hardly able to believe where this was going. Erik _wanted_ this?

“What about you?” he asked, gemstone eyes holding his gaze steadily. 

Charles shook his head. “Anything,” he breathed, staring in awe.

“No, no, no,” Erik said with a frown. “I’ve just told you I could kill you, _think,_ Charles.”

Charles blinked rapidly. “OK… not my blood, then. Or my nerves. I don’t think I would like you controlling where my blood goes.”

Erik smirked and looked down between them. “Yes, I think you’ve rather got that covered.” 

He rolled his hips, and Charles arched and moaned as he pressed down on his cock. “Fuck, Erik,” he gasped, and almost without thinking he rushed into Erik’s mind, frantic, sinking in where he was _welcomed,_ and Erik laughed breathlessly as the sensations echoed between the two of them. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking sensitive,” he muttered, rubbing the heel of his hand over Charles’ cock and both of them saw sparks.

Charles saw the aurorae dance as Erik used his powers, pulling Charles’ belt loose, tugging his zip down, standing to strip his own trousers off. Charles sat up to wriggle out of his own clothes, then grabbed for him with shaking hands, pulling him down onto the bed next to him. He leaned over him, plundering his mouth, moaning into him as their tongues tangled together. 

Charles scraped his nails down Erik’s chest, and finally his thoughts started to scatter, bringing him to the same level of incoherence as Charles had been for way too long as he grasped his cock, pumping and pressing his face into his neck as he felt what Erik felt, sensations magnified as they bounced back between them.

Erik scrambled with his power, tugging open a drawer beside the bed and grabbing the lube inside, slicking his fingers messily. _Come closer, schatz, oh fuck, stop doing that or I’m going to come._

Charles swung his leg over him, leaning over to kiss him deeply as he stroked down between his cheeks, rubbing lightly over his hole, and Charles moaned as he sank into him, projecting every inch his fingers breached. Erik threw his head back and gasped. “Oh my God, Charles! Fuck, is this… does it really…?”

“Yeah,” Charles panted. “That’s how you make me feel, _fuck,_ deeper, please, now.”

Erik twisted two fingers inside him, his hand shaking as he thrust his hand hard, just how Charles liked it. _Now, fuck me, please… I want to feel you… I want you to feel how good it’s going to be with your cock in me._

Charles saw almost blinding green lights as the metal bedframe responded to Erik’s call, tendrils reaching out and wrapping around Charles’ wrists and pulling him off Erik’s chest and onto his front. The strands of metal were pliable, like putty under his perfect control, and the extra sense humming around him was like ecstasy, an extra dimension when he was already feeling everything. 

Erik pressed his hand to the curve of Charles’ back as he slid a condom on and slicked himself up. He pressed closer, biting Charles’ shoulder blade, his cock slipping in inch by inch, the stretch a burn they could both feel, and they groaned together as he sank into Charles’ body.

Charles clenched his fists, flexing against the restraints, pressing backwards into Erik, taking him further in. He could feel every atom of metal in the room through Erik’s mind, could feel Erik’s frantic, awed thoughts, _so hot, fuck, so perfect, his arse, his mouth, oh God I want all of it, I’m not going to last._ He felt Erik’s perfect control over the metal ropes around his own wrists, and through him, he tightened them, digging them into his own skin.

“Fuck,” gasped Erik, thrusting into him so he cried out. “Did you just use my power through me?”

Charles couldn’t answer, too lost to the sensations pouring into him, something he’d tried to block out for so long, wanted so bad. Erik gripped his hips tight, and Charles used his powers to wrap the metal around his own chest instead of his wrists, lifting him up into Erik’s arms. Erik moaned as the change in position tightened his body around his cock, and wrapped his arms around Charles.

“I’m… oh God, I’m so close… fuck, please, harder, please,” Charles begged, his head falling back onto Erik’s shoulder, and he felt the spike of pure lust thunder through Erik. He tangled his fingers in Erik’s hair as Erik stroked one hand down to his cock, grasping it, tugging, flicking his thumb over the head, and he almost screamed as he came. 

Erik cried out as he felt Charles come, and his orgasm hit at exactly the same time, stuttering through him. Charles felt his own cock, wrapped in Erik’s tight grip, and Erik’s cock, buried deep in his arse, a double orgasm, exploding through both of them so that nothing existed, vision gone white, every muscle tense and stuttering.

There must have been something between that and the two of them lying tangled on the sheets, sweat soaked and gasping for air. Erik’s arms were still wrapped tight around Charles’ body, their legs linked and twisted together, and Charles could still feel both their thoughts, every sensation in both their bodies.

Erik laughed, amazement and joy flickering ice blue through both their minds. “We are definitely doing that again. Holy shit.” He took a deep breath. “But maybe not right this minute.”

Charles laughed with him. If he wasn’t right in his mind, right there, he wouldn’t have been able to believe that this was real. That he’d finally found someone who could accept him and his powers, all his darkness and his light and his deepest fantasies, and come out laughing.

“Hey, are you OK?” Erik asked, leaning closer and kissing him on the side of the neck. “You felt the same, right? It wasn’t too much?”

Charles closed his eyes and pressed back into his arms, opened his mind to him, invited him in. “It was perfect.”


	8. Overjoyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is so perfect... but that's not how Charles' life works, is it? He must be wrong. He must be mistaken, and Erik must not really want him.
> 
> Warnings for really low self-esteem, unnamed depression starting to set in, nosebleeds and panic attacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's actually comfort for all the hurt in this chapter! And I'm planning to make an entire chapter of fluff to round it off, but as you can see angsting comes a lot more naturally to me than nice stuff...

Charles moved against the warm sheets, unwilling to emerge from the sweetest dreams of his entire life. He was overheated and tangled and _holy shit he’d had sex last night!_

His eyes snapped open, a broad grin spreading across his face as he remembered… holy _shit_ … he felt his face heating up as the memories hit, and squirmed, pressing his face into the pillows, feeling the ache in his muscles and his arse. It was all too much, and he wanted to scream in delight.

But it really was all too much, wasn’t it? He frowned and sent out cautious tendrils of thought, searching for Erik, but the flat was empty. He rubbed his face, remembered Erik accepting him, telling him he wanted everything. But wait, no, that wasn’t it, was it? Erik had limits, they’d talked about them… had Charles somehow messed with his boundaries without realising it? Maybe as he slept?

He shook his head and climbed out of bed. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions, surely Erik had just popped out for milk. He stretched and winced, and decided to take a shower, that would do him the world of good. He smiled as he remembered falling asleep curled in Erik’s arms, still sticky and buzzing from the best sex of his entire life. He felt the warmth spread through his chest. Surely this time it was different. It had already been so different, this time he’d be good enough for someone.

But when Charles came out of the shower, tousling his hair dry on a towel he’d found in the closet, there was still no sign of Erik. He bit his lip and pulled yesterday’s clothes back on, wincing at the missing button on his shirt. It would have to do… but should he wait? Had he missed something? He sat down on the edge of the bed and checked his phone, but the only message was from Hank, sending him a meeting date with some investors. He stared at the carpet and tried to work out what he should _do_ – he was never any good at knowing what people wanted from him unless they were right in front of him, he _knew_ he leaned too much on his telepathy in that way, but he found it so difficult to turn all of it off… and he knew it was terribly unethical and manipulative to have that extra advantage, knowing what people thought of him all the time and what they wanted… but it was like trying to ignore someone shouting at you without being able to put your hands over your ears. 

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a pressure headache starting up. What had he done to ruin it this time? He thought things had been going so well, Erik had encouraged him into his mind, even, he’d been so _accepting_ of him… he thought it was… he thought he’d been OK, but now… Erik must have changed his mind.

And with that, everything clicked into place. Charles felt cold, sticky defeat pouring over his thoughts, turning everything onto silent, turning away all the joy and the excitement, but really, this was how it always went. 

He stared at the floor for a while. He didn’t even think he was breaking. That was fine. That was better than he’d expected. He’d thought last night that if Erik rejected him that he’d shatter into a million pieces but actually he just felt… flat.

Maybe it was time to stop trying. This was just silly, because he knew he wouldn’t actually ever be good enough for someone, not all the ugly depths of him and his power. He should really stop trying to convince people he was in any way suitable for a relationship, he was a good teacher, that was enough. He could be useful, it was fine. Was it really necessary to be loved as well? It sounded a bit overrated, really.

The slick darkness pouring itself over his mind made him feel tired. He started reeling in the tendrils of thought that he’d sent out to look for Erik, started closing his mind down piece by piece. It hurt, but maybe it hurt less than it had when Raven told him to stay out? He wasn’t sure. He slowly picked up all his scattered bits and bobs, his phone, his socks, his tie. He should probably leave before Erik came back, he was probably waiting for him to leave before he could have his flat and his privacy back. He sniffed as he stood up, he wasn’t sure why. It’s not like there was anything upsetting. He rubbed his forehead and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

The front door burst open, making him jump, heart thumping madly. It’d been so long since he tucked his telepathy away, he could always hear people coming closer – but this was probably fairer. 

And he didn’t want to hear Erik’s thoughts, not this morning, not when he wanted him to leave, not when he couldn’t bear—

He swallowed hard and looked up. “Erik, I’m—”

“Good morning, Charles,” Erik said with a grin, bouncing in wearing a sweat-soaked shirt and joggers. “Did you get my note? I’m sorry I was so late, _schatz_ , I wanted to take the subway home but the bloody line was shut, I…” he stopped and frowned at him. “Are you OK?”

Charles blinked at him. He was here, and he didn’t seem to want Charles to leave, and he didn’t… he squashed down the things he wanted because he always got upset when people pulled back, he knew it was terribly clingy and unhealthy. He closed himself off and waited, and Christ, his head hurt.

Erik walked over to him, standing so close, all he wanted to do was to reach out and _touch_ him but he was sure that wouldn’t be allowed any more, there was no way... 

“Charles, what’s the matter?” Erik asked, frowning, surely that wasn’t good, he should try to work out why Erik was frowning then maybe he’d – but it was too late, it was always too late, because Charles was such a _fucking freak_ he couldn’t make anything work, he was too much.

Erik held his arm, just above the elbow, and he almost gasped at the contact, he couldn’t think straight, he just needed to cover everything in his mind with that black syrup, cover everything so it didn’t hurt any more. “Hey… are you OK? I can’t feel you… you’ve been in my mind all night, all morning and now—”

Charles looked up in horror, his forced peace shattering. “I was in your mind? I’m so sorry, Erik, I had no idea, I didn’t think, oh God, I should have—”

“Hey, hey, why are you upset about this again? I thought I told you last night, I want you there.”

“But you… you’re OK… you still… last night, I thought… this morning when you weren’t here, and…”

“You did… find my note, didn’t you?” Erik gestured with his thumb to the fridge. “I figured you’d get up and get some tea at least.”

“I… I…” Charles blinked fast, trying to compute, after he’d convinced himself, tried to shield himself and now… he felt a pop in his head, right at the front of his mind and

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot of blood, shit, wait here…”

“Oh my God… Oh my God I’m so, so sorry, Erik, I just…” he slapped his hand over his face, the warm blood trickling down his palm and wrists, and there were spots on the floor, on his _carpet_ and _shit_. “Oh my God…” he stumbled back, trying to get off the carpet but it was fitted, all the way to the wall. He looked around wildly, and blood splattered in little drips all over the grey wool and it was _so much_ and Erik was going to hate him, he surely already hated him, he couldn’t possibly like him not after all this not after “I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” he cried.

“Charles! Charles, darling, what’s the matter?” Erik asked, and wrapped his arms around him, blood and tears and all. He held a cloth up to Charles’ face and gathered him close and Charles couldn’t be strong any more, he couldn’t hold himself back when this kind of affection and comfort was being offered. He pressed himself closer, his body shaking as he tried to hold back the sobs, and failed.

“Please tell me what it is, love?” Erik said, stroking his hair back, rocking him. “Can you show me?” He tapped two fingers lightly on Charles’ temple, and Charles shook his head violently.

“You’ll leave… you’ll be disgusted you’ll hate me you’ll leave I’m so sorry, please, I know I’m terrible, I know I’m… I’m so pathetic and clingy and I’m so so sorry, please don’t h-hate me please, p-“

“OK, OK, shh, shh.” Erik ran his fingers through Charles’ hair again and again, pressing him close once more, kissing him on the head, and Charles had never felt this, never been this cared for in his life… he’d never allowed himself to fall apart, not since he had better control than a small child, and he _didn’t know_ , he’d never known this was a possibility, and if he had it would have destroyed him. It would still destroy him, to know this was an option, if he scared Erik away and never got to have it again, and that wasn’t right, that was so unhealthy, and all because Charles could never have enough, he was so selfish, he always just wanted more and more from people! Why couldn’t he just be satisfied with what he had? He was always grasping and grabbing and wanting to take more and more and it was too much, it had always been too much, for Dan, and his family and _everyone_ and there was no way Erik could possibly be different no matter how much he told himself he was, how could he be?

At last he wrestled back some control, just a little, and found himself still wrapped in Erik’s arms, his fingers gripping his shirt so tight they ached, his face a mess of blood and snot and _ugh_ , how Erik could even stand to be near him. “I’m so terribly sorry,” he said, but it came out as a hoarse whisper.

Erik just brushed his hair out of his face and smiled down at him. “There’s no need to be sorry,” he said. “Would you like to talk?”

Charles didn’t know what to say. It had been a long time since anyone expected him to need anything like that. Telepaths didn’t _need_ stuff like that, they were meant to know everything, they were meant to sort everyone else’s shit out.

“You know, I can always tell when Emma’s having a bad day,” said Erik at last, still combing his fingers through his hair. Charles wanted to close his eyes and _press_ against him with that gentle touch. “Your mind feels different to hers, she doesn’t… hide quite so well as you do. I think if I wasn’t so used to working alongside her I wouldn’t be able to tell with you at all but… I can tell you’re shielding. There’s this… emptiness around you? I don’t know how to explain it. Like you usually take up more space, and now, you’ve shrunk, I suppose is the word.”

Charles stared up at him. “I was… I was trying to keep it close… keep it tucked away.”

“Why?” he asked softly, cupping Charles’ cheeks. “Will you not tell me what happened? Was it too much, last night? Are you… are you having second—”

“No! No, please, I’m not, I don’t want to—it was… it was so much, it was incredible, I’ve never—”

“OK, OK, it’s fine. Breathe, love.” He cuddled him closer and kissed him on the temple and Charles didn’t know whether to melt into him or cry in confusion, push him away and save himself from this uncharted territory, cover his mind in the black and dull every sense to nothing so it _stopped hurting_ all the time. He hadn’t realised how much it _hurt_ until he felt this affection and acceptance and he didn’t know what to do about it, everything just—

“It hurts,” he blurted, and pressed his face to Erik’s chest in shame, swallowing down the sobs that wanted to wrench themselves from his throat. “It hurts, and I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t know how to keep this, keep _you_ and I can’t handle it, I don’t know… I don’t _know_ …”

Erik never stopped kissing him, or touching him, stroking his hand over his back and his face and his neck, and it was so good it ached, every muscle arching towards him and terrified to show what he wanted, to show this vulnerability because he always wanted too much. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even hear what Erik was saying any more, his head throbbing, aching, burning, until suddenly, it all went black.

***

He woke in a darkened room, a warm body beneath him, a steady heartbeat and the gradual rise and fall of breathing. He blinked and shifted, and immediately arms wrapped around him, knees came up beside his hips, and he found himself surrounded entirely in Erik’s limbs, held close, cocooned in affection and he wanted to keep dreaming like this forever.

“You’re not dreaming,” said Erik, his voice rough. Charles looked up, shocked to see Erik’s face, his eyes red rimmed and tear stained. “I saw,” he said, brushing hair out Charles’ eyes. “I, uh… your memories. I saw them. I think you were having a panic attack or something, and suddenly you went from zero to sixty and it was like… being buried in your memories.”

“Oh God, Erik, I’m so sorry… are you OK?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Not sure whether to kiss you or adopt you, which is a situation I never thought I’d be in, honestly.”

Charles frowned and cocked his head.

Erik took a deep breath and shifted, guiding Charles’ head back down to his chest. “My father died when I was young,” he said. “About fifteen. I saw… they beat him. The war was long over but hatred will always remain.” He shook his head in grief and fury. “He survived the ghettos only to succumb to bastards half his age who…” He trailed off and Charles pressed his face to his chest, covering him in comfort like a blanket. Erik smiled. “I can feel that, you know,” he said. “In my mind. Thank you for not trying to make it go away.”

“I can’t take that from you,” he replied, his voice muffled by Erik’s shirt. “Your anger and grief are entirely justified.”

He combed his fingers through Charles’ hair, and Charles could feel his affection bubbling around them. “I was lucky, though,” he said, and as he spoke, Charles started to see the memories, shared carefully and deliberately, rather than pushing them haphazardly towards him like he was used to. “Had it been a couple of decades ago, the men would have been soldiers and we’d have been nothing but _rats_ to them,” he spat. “But there are enough people who are deeply ashamed of our country’s past… a group of college students saw us, and intervened. They fought the scum back, one of them… one was even a mutant, like me.” 

He stopped speaking, the words unable to pass any more, and Charles saw the flashes of grief and fury, but also saw the police taking the bastards away, the paramedics who tried to save his father, the red-skinned man who teleported a distraught Erik away to his mother when his out-of-control mutation was threatening to damage the medical equipment. He saw a long, publicised court case and a thin, grief-lined woman clutching Erik’s hand as they sat in smart clothes to watch the men sentenced.

Charles wrapped his arms around Erik’s waist and wished he had never experienced this pain, wished he could make it all go away.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” said Erik. “To take my pain is to take my desire for justice. If there had been no justice for my family back then, who knows what kind of man I would have been. I don’t think I could have stopped until every one of those men had paid.” Charles felt the arcs of his power swirl in impassioned eddies around the room, making the pipes in the wall moan and the metal fixtures shudder before Erik took a deep breath. “But I didn’t tell you my story to get your sympathy, I told it… well, for two reasons. Firstly because I want us to be on equal footing – I saw your past by accident, it seems only fair to show you mine. And secondly because I want you to see that it’s OK. You have no reason to be ashamed of your past.”

Charles looked up at him, confused. Erik just smiled. “I mean… what happened with your family… with your other lovers? I wish it had never happened to you. But I can’t take it away any more than you can take my father’s death away. What I can do, instead, is to prove that you are enough – you’re more than enough. You’re worth all the care and affection and attention you want so much. You’re…” he took a deep breath. “I think… I might love you…”

Charles froze, every mote of dust crystallising as he stuttered over the thought, as he tried to remember the last time someone had said that to him… Dan had said it as a casual response to his own heart-pounding declaration, so easy for Dan to smile and say the words that meant everything to Charles without even a flicker in his mind. And here was Erik, his entire body and mind vibrating with tension as he gave him this _gift_ , handed him his own heart, every thought waiting to hear how it would be received. Charles looked up, leant over and kissed him, deep and slow and wet because he was _fucking crying_ again, how pathetic!

Erik laughed and rolled him over, pulling back and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “You’re not pathetic, Charles,” he grinned.

“I… I do to, I love you… I thought… I thought you wouldn’t want to know but I do…”

Erik laughed again, bright and joyous, and kissed him on the forehead. He pulled away again and his smile softened. “And to think I thought you were so suave and eloquent when I first met you.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Honestly, how anyone ever thinks these things about me. I’m a disaster.”

Erik kissed his cheek, his lips, his nose. “Mmmm. You’re my disaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Charles really needs to learn what a _good_ mother is like, doesn't he?


	9. A New Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles meets Edie Lehnsherr - a fluffy sort of epilogue from Erik's POV!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I searched for the actress who played Edie Lehnsherr in the movie to get the right look and oh my God! Eva Magyar is absolutely GORGEOUS!

Erik felt Charles’s mind whirling with anxiety even as he stood perfectly still with a polite smile on his face. He sighed, and imagined a twisting band of iron tangling itself in the maelstrom of Charles’ thoughts, capturing him, holding him still. 

Beside him, Charles jumped, his eyes going wide. He turned and smiled sheepishly at Erik. “How do you do that? It’s like… being hugged inside my own head.”

“I have a very visual imagination,” he said with a smirk. Charles blushed, and tried to look reproachful, but really, with the filthy thoughts flooding his own mind he had no room for such hypocrisy. Erik reached out an arm and tugged him close by the scruff of his neck. “Calm down, _Liebchen_. My mother is going to adore you.”

“Just because you adore me, doesn’t mean everyone else is so misguided,” Charles teased. Erik heard the thread of pleading beneath his words, in the place where his thoughts still tangled with Erik’s.

The past months had been a relationship like nothing Erik had ever imagined, let alone experienced. It had taken weeks of careful reassurance to convince Charles that Erik really did want him around - in every way. Charles was so painfully desperate to please, and yet his self-esteem was so completely shrivelled, that Erik found himself constructing elaborate revenge fantasies while he worked, scenes where he punched Kurt Marko in the face until his own knuckles bled. Or where he kicked Charles’ Oxford roommate down the stairs for trying to manipulate him into cheating. When Charles came across those thoughts one unguarded moment, he blinked up at him, shocked. 

“You know very well I’m not a very nice person, Charles,” he said with a shrug.

Charles thought for a moment, then straddled his knees and pressed close for a hug. “That’s not true, Erik. Your thoughts are not your actions, and nobody’s hurt when you think such things.”

Erik pulled him back to look at him seriously. “You should know that I would do those things if I ever saw you in such situations, though. I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“I know,” he said, blue eyes gazing at him in wonder. 

Now waiting in the airport for his mother to arrive, Erik tugged him close and embraced him, resting his chin on his head. Charles retreated from his mind a little, the edge of his telepathy just skating noticeably on the surface. It felt to Erik a bit like holding hands. He knew Charles was there, Charles knew he could dive into the sanctuary of Erik’s mind at any moment, but they were separate most of the time. It was very similar to the way Erik sometimes played with Charles’ watch strap, tightening and loosening it with his power absent-mindedly.

Charles shifted in his hold and sent him a thought he’d picked up off the surface of one of the airport employees. Erik jumped a little to hear a woman’s voice speak straight into his own mind, but squeezed Charles’ waist. “Sounds like Mutti will be here soon, then.”

Charles took a deep breath and straightened out, brushing his blazer down and looking for stray crumbs or creases. He even glanced through Erik’s eyes at himself, and Erik made a point of lingering his gaze on Charles’ arse. “Very funny,” Charles said, trying to conceal a smile, and failing. “I want to look smart, I don’t care what my backside looks like.”

“You look perfect,” he laughed, then looked up, his attention homing in on the feel of a set of slim golden bands he knew so well. “Ah, there she is! _Mutti!”_

He waved at his mother, and she did a little skip when she saw him across the arrivals lounge, waving back wildly and hurrying towards them. Erik met her in the middle and scooped her up into a spin. “Erik! Oh, my darling, it’s so good to see you! Put me down, you silly boy! What will all these people think if I kick one of them in the knees because my son is spinning me around like this?” She laughed and leaned back as he dropped her back to her feet. “Look at you! So handsome, so tall, where’s my little baby?”

“You know I haven’t grown an inch since I was twenty-three,” he snorted.

“But you will always be my baby, won’t you,” she grinned, pinching his cheeks.

He slapped her away playfully. “Stop, you fool. Come and meet Charles.”

“Ah! Your sweetheart!” She turned to Charles, who was still hovering slightly behind Erik, and switched to English. “You must be the man who has captured my Erik’s heart,” she said, holding out her hand.

Charles gave his best dazzling, harmless-professor smile. He looked perfectly poised, but he’d pulled back just slightly from Erik’s mind, closing himself off and holding himself perfectly rigid. He took Mutti’s hand and to both their surprise, bent over it and kissed her knuckles like some kind of Regency lord. “Mrs Lehnsherr. It’s such a pleasure! And thank you so much for your son.” _What the fuck did I just say thank you FOR YOUR SON like he’s a present she gave me what the fuck is wrong with me oh my God she’s going to hate me and we haven’t even got out of the airport and--_

The panicked mental stream cut off. Charles straightened up and blinked rapidly. Erik’s jaw dropped, and he quickly snapped his mouth shut and tried desperately to bite his lips to keep the laughter at bay. Mutti looked uncertainly at Erik.

“Well,” said Erik. “You did raise me very well, Mutti.”

Charles’ shoulder slumped and he covered his face with his hands, his ears turning bright red. Erik covered his mouth and shook with giggles.

“Did I misunderstand?” Mutti asked, in German. “Did he say thank you… for you?”

Erik laughed and hugged Charles, kissing him on the head over and over. “Oh, _Schatz_ , you are the best thing in my life.”

Mutti slapped him on the arm. “Well, don’t laugh at the poor boy! See how embarrassed he is! Don’t listen to him, Charles, dear.” She took Charles’ hands gently away from his face, and Erik moved back, still chuckling, to let her closer.

Charles looked utterly miserable, and now Erik had stopped teasing him, he could hear Charles’ mental whispering, almost panicking about how he’d ruined everything and now Edie was going to hate him and think he was an idiot and Erik was going to realise how true that was… Erik’s amusement disappeared and he immediately sent mental waves of apology towards him, trying to cover him in peace and safety.

“Do you know,” said Mutti, holding both Charles’ hands between her own. “When I met my Jakob’s mother, I made the mistake of discussing politics? I didn’t realise she was a staunch conservative, and my liberal views didn’t go down very well.” She dipped her head slightly to meet Charles’ gaze. “Now, you said thank you to me for Erik? Well, of course, he is his own person, and has made himself into the wonderful man you know today, but I am honoured that you give me any credit at all for it.”

Charles swallowed hard and smiled up at her. Erik felt a glow of pride in his mother’s kindness. He used his power to buzz both Charles’ watch and Mutti’s rings affectionately, and pulled them into a hug, one loved person in each arm. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he said. He took Mutti’s suitcase handle in one hand, and tucked Charles under the other arm, and walked them back to the car.

***

_She loves you already_ , he said into Charles’ mind as they sat in the living room that evening after dinner.

Charles looked up, his eyes wide with hope. _How can you know? I don’t want to…_

 _I don’t have to read her mind to know what she thinks of you,_ he said, smiling over at his mother, who was looking out at the New York skyline outside Erik’s apartment, her hand elegantly folded under her chin, her elbow resting on the sofa. _She’s going to love you as much as I do._

He felt Charles’ heart softening at his words, the swell of joy rising up under those negative thoughts that Erik hated so much, the thoughts Charles had been fed throughout his life and that convinced him he was so much less than he truly was.

But now, Charles sent tendrils of thought through Erik’s mind, down his muscles, giving a little tug that showed as a twitch of Erik’s arm, a little pull for permission. Erik grinned. _Go ahead_ , he said, and gave up the control of his limbs. Charles lifted Erik’s arm, making space to press close against his side, draping Erik’s arm around his shoulder before releasing him with a content little sigh.

Mutti cast a look at the two of them on the sofa, a fond smile curling at her lip. Erik smiled back, and pulled Charles closer, breathing a kiss into his hair. 

And in his mind, behind a door labelled ‘Surprise, keep out!’, he thought of the ring he had pushed into the very back of his sock drawer. Thought of Mutti’s delighted exclamations when he’d shown her earlier.

“That’s wonderful, Erik!” She grinned the wide, toothy smile he’d inherited. “But why are you showing me?”

Erik looked at her seriously. “Charles doesn’t have a family,” he said. “Or not one worth mentioning. To ask him to marry me would be to ask you to accept another son, and I want to know if you would be willing to love him and support him the way you do me.”

Edie’s green eyes softened with sadness and she put her hand on his elbow. “Oh, _Liebling_. I’d be honoured. Any person who can command your love and trust like this must be someone truly special. I can’t wait to get to know him.” She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek, and he hugged her tight.

This coming month was going to be the perfect opportunity for Mutti to get to know Charles. Erik already know she was going to adore him. Edie Lehnsherr liked everyone, and everyone liked Charles Xavier. And then, he thought, closing the door to his secret gleefully, he was going to make sure Charles knew that Erik _loved_ him, and his family, small as it was, was all for Charles as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah I can't believe this fic is over! Thank you so SO much to everyone who wrote the most incredibly lovely comments, you guys are so lovely! Also it seems to be directly correlated with the amount of stuff I've got planned for the future _side-eyes WIP pile..._ I hope you like it!! You guys are amazing <3

**Author's Note:**

> You can come say hi on Tumblr [(Gold-From-Straw)](gold-from-straw.tumblr.com) or on [Wordpress](https://lynhemphillauthor.wordpress.com/), where I write about my original novels and stuff!


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